The Poor Man's Luck
by Priestess of Groove
Summary: A hot dog vendor is all dressed up but now there's no world. Only Eomer makes a brief appearance; setting is Rohan.


**Author's Note: **This was a class assignment. My five elements were hot dog vendor, spatula, 7:59, Middle Earth, and the end of the world.

**The Destruction of a World**

"But of course, how could I know this would be such a fruitless task?" A heavy-set man with the cheeks of a chipmunk pouted behind the crude wooden structure of a counter he had built only a month earlier. The brilliant idea had occurred to him to create _Ye Olde Dog _stand when he had seen a soldier of the Rohirrim army roasting sausage links over a fire. So the thought struck him: why not sell this meat cooking service to the citizens of Edoras?

_If the baker can make use of these fires then I should as well_, he thought. The first time he had stuck a sausage into the oven on the fork he had seen used, it had immediately lit on fire and fell into the floor, a dusty burnt cinder. As time consuming as it was, the only way to cook the sausage links was to allow them to roast in a pan. The first day he opened his business to the citizens, they paid him a courtesy visit to try his new idea and they found themselves waiting for half an hour or more while he struggled to cook them up a sausage. He earned the nickname of the Buttery Hand Man due to the notorious way any item managed to slip through his fingers like he had rubbed them in grease. Many a sausage had met its fate in the fire or on the dirt floor before they ever made it to the mouths of his customers, and though he had practiced he still continued to inadvertently fumble the sausages onto the ground.

He glanced outside at the dimming light and briefly wondered if it was really 7:59 in the evening. It seemed like only minutes ago the sun was shining brightly through the front window of the shop, but now the daylight had dimmed to a steel gray. A growl of thunder pealed overhead just as a skinny, young lad ran into the shop.

"Mynnyn, come see the sky, come see the sky! I've never seen aught like it!"

"I've seen the angry clouds of a storm before, Cadoc" Mynnyn replied, his mouth bowed down into another pouty frown when he turned back to stare longingly at the fire in his chimney.

"This shop is not going to burn down in your absence, Mynnyn," the boy said.

"It's not that."

Cadoc stared at him for a moment, his head cocked in curiosity and then his mouth fell open in understanding. Finally he said, "Fine, here's a penny for a sausage!" He slapped a couple of coins onto the counter and Mynnyn grinned before he began preparing a sausage. The first one he had prepared all day.

The boy impatiently drummed his fingers as Mynnyn went through the deliberate process of cooking a sausage. With another slow prod of his iron spatula, the portly cook deemed it done, and carefully scoped it out of the pan and balanced it with a terrified expression until it was safely rolled onto a slice of bread. Cadoc snatched it up immediately, and then he grabbed Mynnyn's thick hand and pulled him out the door, the sausage and bun already halfway down his throat.

Mynnyn allowed himself to be dragged but his mind drifted while Cadoc tugged him along. _I must remember to order more wood so that I may have fuel for the next week. Curse my poor luck, I still have plenty of sausage and bread to last another two weeks before it spoils. How do I spread the word of my business to gain more support? _

"Look," Cadoc pointed out to the field beyond.

Mynnyn finally saw what Cadoc had dragged him over to see and his mouth fell open. The storm clouds above were a boiling, ugly green, twisting in and about itself like a snake. A swirling funnel dipped down from the clouds and steadfastly made its way toward the ground and it immediately kicked up a giant cloud of dust. Lightning splintered the sky in constant flashes and the thunder was a consistent roar that was so loud Mynnyn could barely hear himself yelp in fright. A bolt ripped apart a flagpole not too far away from where they standing. Screams rent the air and one voice could be heard over the constant roar, "It's the Gods' divine punishment! This is the end!"

Mynnyn felt the wind knocked out of him when he was violently pushed into one of the wooden supports of the outer wall. Black spots flecked his vision and he panted hoarsely as he struggled to push himself off the floor, but his hands were slipping all over the place. He cried out in surprise when he felt a violent tug on his legs from another person tripping over them. His vision was swimming and one last desperate thought crossed his mind, _Is this really the final hour? No, no, I don't want to die! Gods, please spare my humble soul. Gods, please!_

"Are you okay? Mynnyn, wake up!"

His eyes finally focused on Cadoc who was tapping his face lightly. "Oh good. We need to get out of here! Follow me!" For the second time the boy grabbed his wrist and pulled him to his feet and down the stairs. Mynnyn's eyes roved dazedly around the area, not quite understanding all that was happening. His eyes fell on a man lying crumpled on the stairs face down—_Is that Old Father Rhynnyn?_—another bolt of lightning struck The Golden Hall up on the hilltop, a fire was already brewing over at the Lenin shop. People were dashing all over the place in the utter chaos. The soldiers and King Eomer yelled soundlessly into the air in an attempt to restore order, but even the horses were screaming out of control, sprinting out of the stables and barreling mindlessly down the pitted hill. One animal fell forward onto its knees and rolled the rest of the way down the hill and when it finally came to a rest it did not move.

"Where are we going?" Mynnyn screamed above the din.

"We have to leave! We have to leave! This place is no longer safe," Cadoc replied. The lanky boy lunged at a horse that was screaming and rearing into the air in fright. It shifted restlessly on its legs but the sight of the boy seemed to soothe its nerves enough that he was able to climb onto its bare back. "Let's go, Mynnyn!" He reached a hand out for the vendor.

Mynnyn glanced up at him in fear and then back at his shop; it was still standing against the ferocious winds that now blew and it remained untouched by the vicious lightning. He looked back at Cadoc and said, "No, I will not leave my shop. You go!"

Cadoc's eyes bulged. "Don't be foolish, sir. The end is nigh! Do ye not value your life?"

"If this is the end then I wish to die here," Mynnyn said. His eyes were wide and glassy as he stared up at the young man, but he nodded with conviction. "Leave if you must." Then as if the very seams of the world were not falling apart around him, he walked back to his shop as if it were any other bright summer's day.

Once inside he breathed a sigh of relief. The wind was swirling violently through his little shop, not quite drowning out the screams that continued to sound over the wind like the mournful howls of the dead. He smiled and grabbed his iron spatula and pan and he began cooking up a sausage. It was as he was pulling the pan out of the oven when his shop exploded around him.


End file.
